


Coney Island Girl

by SonicZephyr



Category: Golden Girls
Genre: Arguing, Blanche being an absolute drama queen, Dialogue Heavy, Dorothy attempting to be reassuring, F/F, Kissing, One of Rose's St. Olaf stories, Running Away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24730231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonicZephyr/pseuds/SonicZephyr
Summary: A dialogue heavy piece - the girls talk about being young and in love after seeing a news report on a runaway who was safely returned home. Blanche, of course, has a similar story about running off and being saved by a kind stranger.
Relationships: Blanche Devereaux/Dorothy Zbornak
Comments: 16
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

_“A local girl was brought home safe today,”_ the anchorman read over the evening news one Friday night. _“She was reported missing three days ago after her mother found a note detailing her plans to elope with her boyfriend in Georgia. The pair were located after they checked into a motel in Savannah under assumed names. The manager of-”_

“It’s a wonder that girl wound up okay,” Sophia said, barely glancing up from her knitting. “Running off with a boy across state lines in this day and age. It’s a great way to get yourself killed, if you ask me.”

Blanched propped her head up on her hand, elbow precariously close to sliding off the arm of the chair, and sighed wistfully. “Oh, Sophia. You know how it is to be young and in love. You can’t blame them for doing something so dumb and romantic.”

“It really is a romantic idea,” Rose agreed, casting her eyes heavenward and smiling. “Of course it’s dangerous, but when you get all caught up in the moment… well even I thought about running away with a boy once.”

“You _did_?” Blanche asked, leaning in. “Now, that’s a story I wanna hear.”

“So do I,” Dorothy said, leaning back against the arm of the couch to size Rose up. “This doesn’t sound like one of your typical St. Olaf tales.”

“Well… it’s not really much of a story,” Rose said sheepishly. “I was maybe fourteen or so. Every day when I’d walk home from school, I’d see this boy waving at me from the fields. I thought he must’ve been the new farmhand working for Old Man Akelson. I’d seen him once or twice at the general store, and he was _beautiful_. He had these big brown doe eyes and a head of hair that was as red as fire and soft as a cloud.”

“You really liked this boy, huh?” Blanche asked, getting up and settling herself beside Rose on the sofa.

“I _really_ did,” Rose said, ducking her head and smiling. “Every girl wanted him, but I was the one he waved to every day after school. Me! But I was always too shy to ever do more than wave back at him and then hurry home. I’d spend all my time daydreaming about him, so much so that my father noticed. He sat me down one day and said, ‘Rosie, what’s on your mind lately? You seem like your head’s someplace else.’”

“You always seem like your head’s someplace else,” Sophia quipped, but the other girls quickly shushed her. 

“I couldn’t lie to him, so I told him the truth,” Rose continued. “And he said to me ‘I’m not going to let any daughter of mine go after some drifter who’d be gone in a few months anyway.’ I don’t know if I ever felt that mad at him in my life!”

“Go on,” Blanche insisted, taking Rose’s hand and grinning. “This is so exciting! So what’d you do?”

“I spent all night fuming,” she said, squeezing Blanche’s hand. “How could I stop thinking about the most handsome boy I’d ever seen? I knew that I’d do anything to be with him, including leaving St. Olaf. Maybe I wasn’t ready enough to cross state lines, but I’d go as far as St. Gustav or even Tyler’s Landing. I even started packing! I stuffed as much as I could in my schoolbag and planned on confessing my feelings after school the very next day.”

“Well, I walked home and he was waving as usual. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I waved back, and I almost lost my nerve. But then I thought about never knowing, about possibly losing my soulmate, and my feet started moving on their own. I raced across that field faster than I thought possible, even as the tall grass caught and snagged at my skirt. I just had to be with him.”

“So… what happened?” Blanche said. “Don’t leave us hanging at the good part! What did he say?”

“Nothing,” Rose said, glancing away. “When I got up to him, I realized it wasn’t him at all... It was a scarecrow.”

“What.” Blanche did nothing but blink. 

“I take it back,” Dorothy said, taking in a slow breath. “This sounds _exactly_ like one of your St. Olaf tales. I should never have doubted you.” 

“Rose, you absolute dummy!” Blanche tossed Rose's hand away and sank back into the couch, pouting. “I can’t believe you got me all worked up over a scarecrow!”

“It could have been worse!” Rose said quickly. “He could have been a scare-cow! See, we didn’t usually use scarecrows because all the birds got used to them! But we made these upright fake cows to keep the critters away from the fish fairs and… Oh, well, anyway… I sure am glad they found that runaway safe.”

“Every single one of my runaway stories is better than that _stupid_ one,” Blanche said, folding her arms across her chest. Dorothy, drained of the will to hear another absurdity, shook her head and surveyed her nails. Blanche continued anyway. “Unlike _some_ people, I made sure my boys were _real_ before I made any future plans.” 

“Mine was real! Just not when he was waving at me…”

“Anyway,” Blanche over-enunciated, casting a pointed look at Rose. “I, too, understand getting all swept up by your emotions. Thinking that I’d be married to any boy that caught my eye. You know, I ran away and tried to elope with so many men during my youth, I’m surprised my parents didn’t try to lock me up somewhere. I was lucky that someone would always end up chasing me down and bringing me home. Farthest I ever got was New York, can you believe that?”

“New York?” Sophia asked, tilting her head. “That must’ve been what? A fifteen hour drive, nonstop? Plus I thought you said you didn’t mix with northern folks back then. Yankees, or whatever.”

“Normally, we didn’t,” Blanche said. “Northern men don’t usually have anywhere _near_ the amount of charm a southerner does, but this wasn’t just any yankee. This man was a big time director, blowing through our neck of the woods to find the perfect girl for his new movie.”

Dorothy snorted. “Isn’t that what they all say?”

“He had credentials! Whole boxes of film reels in the back of his car, and he had stories about working with all the greats, and the script we all read from was perfection. It also helped that he was devilishly handsome and wasn’t shy about spending his money.”

“Ah, so he was a _rich_ predator,” Dorothy said, nodding sagely. “Why don’t you just skip over your whirlwind romance with the guy and just get to the part where you left home.”

“You’re no fun,” Blanche said, huffing. “Fine. I fell for him and he said I’d be perfect for the part, and he was gonna make me a star. So, I snuck out of the house one night and left with him. No one would’ve been any the wiser if I hadn’t left a note behind apologizing for my abrupt departure.”

“It really is a wonder you and Rose managed to live this long,” Sophia said. “If you two were anybody else, you’d have never made it past twenty. You’d either be kidnapped, or sold off, or poisoned from eating too much paint as kids.”

“I never ate paint as a kid,” Rose said. “Paste, maybe, but not paint.”

“Well you sure act like you have lead poisoning!” 

“Knock it off, you two!” Blanche snapped. When the other two were quiet, she smoothed her skirt over her thighs and continued. “This is my story, remember? You can comment on it at the end.”

“You got to New York,” Sophia reminded her.

“And it was divine!” Blanche said. “I ended up sleeping most of the ride up - we did leave just after midnight. But when we finally got to New York, he took me to all these fancy restaurants and let me go dress shopping. I had to have something nice for the screen test, he said. Everything was perfect up until I went to try on this pretty sundress. It had a blue halter top and a full white skirt with little flowers printed on it. I loved that dress and thought it’d be perfect on the big screen. Only, when I came out of the dressing room to show him, he was talking to another girl, saying how pretty she was. How lovely she’d be on the big screen. He could make her a star.”

“He must have had a lot of roles to fill,” Rose said. “You’d need a lot of actors and actresses for a movie, I’d imagine.”

“Use your inside thoughts, honey,” Blanche said. “Anyway. I was so furious, I just ran straight out, dress and all. Luckily, I had the frame of mind to bring my purse with me, but all that had in it was five bucks and some makeup. So there I was, a sixteen year old girl from Georgia, wandering through New York City, completely lost and alone. I didn’t know what to do. I knew I couldn’t keep walking around, though. I only knew two things about New York at the time - that the city would eat you up and that Coney Island existed. So, I took the bus to Coney Island.”

“You’re telling me that you didn’t phone home?” Sophia said. “Didn’t even attempt it? You just decided to go hang around at a funpark while your parents were probably worried sick.”

“I was just a kid!” Blanche said quickly. “And I knew I was gonna get whipped the second I got home, figured I might as well have a little fun before I died! I did end up phoning home, for your information. When I finally got to a payphone, I found out my big sister Charmaine covered for me and said we were having a spur of the moment road trip. Just about the nicest thing she ever did for me. Through a whole slew of calls and telegrams, we managed to get in touch with one another, and she said she’d probably be able to get me by ten or eleven. Of course, it wasn’t even seven yet, and I’d blown most of my money on the calls and something to eat, so all I could do was sit and wait.”

“Quite the story,” Dorothy muttered, staring off at the TV.

“That’s not the end of it,” Blanche said. “You think someone as pretty as me could sit all by her lonesome and not garner some attention? I wasn’t there ten minutes before some boys got to flirting with me. It was fun for a while, until one of them started getting real handsy. I thought I’d just gotten myself into another predicament when this older girl came to my rescue. Real tall girl, almost statuesque, but a little plain in the face. She was _amazing_. Scared all of them off without even lifting a finger.”

“How’d she do it?” Rose asked, fully enraptured in the story. 

“Oh, she made up some lie about being my cousin,” she said. “And how she’d beat the tar out of them if anyone else came near me. They all scattered like rats at that.”

“And then what?” Rose asked.

“And then nothing,” Blanche said, shrugging. “I stuck to that girl like glue so I wouldn’t get myself in any more trouble. She was a real sport, showing me around the park and the pier like we were old friends. Managed to have a lot of fun until I found my sister waiting for me by the Wonder Wheel. I barely even got to say goodbye before Charmaine dragged me off and started giving me a ration. We fought about it damn near the whole way home.”

“Well, that’s just so sad!” Rose fully deflated, dropping her head back onto Dorothy’s shoulder. Behind her, Dorothy barely moved, picking at her cuticles again, so Rose nudged her. “Isn’t it sad, Dorothy? She never even got to say bye to the girl that helped her.”

“Sure it is,” Dorothy said absently. When Blanche and Rose both let out annoyed sighs, Dorothy glanced between the two and relented. “I was only half listening. Aside from the guys, every one of Blanche’s runaway stories is the same - she meets a man too old or too rough or too _something_ for her parents to approve of, she falls madly and defiantly in love with him and runs off. Something happens that makes her rethink running away and then a relative comes and collects her. Rinse and repeat ‘til she meets George and settles down.” 

“I dunno, pussycat,” Sophia said without glancing up from her knitting. “I kinda like when the theme is consistent. It’s comforting, almost. I have my Sicily stories, Blanche has her slut stories, Rose has St. Olaf. Just because your stories are about being gawky or married to Stanley-”

“Ma!” 

“Oh, none of that,” Blanche said, waving her hand as if to fan away the tension in the room. “Dorothy’s not wrong, you know. And my life would’ve been far more sordid if I didn’t have good people reigning me back in, like Charmaine and the Coney Island girl, and of course you three, my very best friends.” 

She said it so earnestly and smiled so sweetly at them, that it was hard to stay mad. It also helped that the doorbell rang and Rose shot to her feet. “I almost forgot my date!”

“Is it already six o’clock?” Sophia asked, stabbing her knitting needles into the skein of yarn and hauling herself out of her chair. “I was meant to see a picture with a couple of the _Cloud Society_ gals. I better get moving or else we’ll all wind up having to sit in the back row with the heavy breathers.”

“Looks like it’s just you and me tonight,” Blanche said, settling back into her corner of the sofa. “Unless you have plans I don’t know about.”

“I never have plans, do I?” Dorothy said flatly.

“Did I say something?” Blanche asked, tilting her head to look over at her. 

“No, I’ll make popcorn.” Without another word, Dorothy wandered off to the kitchen. 

Maybe she should have gone after her, but when Dorothy got into a mood, it was usually better to steer clear. Instead, Blanche climbed to her feet and made her way over to the TV to sort through the pile of movies they’d rented during the week. “Dorothy! How about something scary?” 

“Your pick!” she called back over the sound of the kernels popping away. “I picked last time!”

She did just that, choosing one with a particularly ominous cover (did Sophia rent this one?) and pushing it into the VCR. She took her seat back on the sofa, curling her legs beneath her as she let the trailers play. Dorothy came back, a bowl of popcorn in hand, just as the last trailer had played out. 

“Just out of curiosity,” she said, setting the bowl on the coffee table and sitting beside Blanche. “Did you ever get the name of the Coney Island girl?”

“Hm?” Blanche furrowed her brow. “I must’ve… Spent three or four hours with her. It would’ve been rude not to. Why, you think you knew her?”

“Sometimes you’re as slow as Rose,” Dorothy said, reaching forward to get a handful of popcorn. 

It didn’t actually hit her until they were watching the opening credits crawl across the screen. 

“Oh, my _god_!” 

The words came out so suddenly that Dorothy actually jumped, sending a few pieces of popcorn skittering across the floor. Blanche all but launched herself onto her feet, retreating behind an armchair, desperate to put some distance between them. 

“Come on now, Blanche,” Dorothy said, sweeping a few stray crumbs dropped on the sofa to the floor. “You’re acting like someone got killed.”

“I might just drop dead!” she shouted. “This might kill me!”

“It was forty years ago,” Dorothy said, her voice even. “It’s really not that big of a deal. We don’t even need to talk about it.”

“I _kissed_ you!” Blanche looked around, eyes wide, then dropped her voice as if someone were listening. “I kissed _you._ I could drop dead.”

“You didn’t tell anyone that part of the story,” she said, shrugging. “It’s not like anyone knows.”

“But _I_ know and _you_ know,” Blanche hissed. “Actually, no. No, I take that back. I take everything back. Just _how_ long have you known?”

“I didn’t remember anything about it until you started describing that stupid dress,” Dorothy said, crossing her arms. “You think I wouldn’t have mentioned it if I recognized you when I moved in?”

“Oh, I just feel icky about this whole thing,” Blanche said, sinking lower behind the chair. 

“You’re being _such_ a baby about this!” Dorothy grabbed the remote and switched off the movie. “What’s a kiss between friends?”

“I like men!” Blanche blurted out, before knocking her head against the back of the chair. “I was just so tired and scared and you were so nice to me and I just thought it wouldn’t hurt to try, not with someone I’d never ever see again and we were on that stupid ferris wheel and and it just seemed right and-”

Dorothy got up and knelt beside Blanche, tentatively touching her arm. “Honey, I think you’re hyperventilating. If you end up fainting, it’s just going to make things worse.”

Blanche whined and sucked in a shaky breath, pressing her forehead against the chair again. 

“This doesn’t change anything about you,” Dorothy said gently. “You were fine with it before it was me, weren’t you? So, just pretend it wasn’t me. It was some other plain and tall girl from Brooklyn. It’s not like it meant anything. Like you said, you were just curious.”

“I liked it, though,” she said, almost a whisper. “If I did it and didn’t like it, everything’d be fine.”

“Wow, to think, me at seventeen had the kissing abilities to send someone into a tailspin forty years later,” Dorothy teased. “Talk about a delayed super power.”

“Shut up, Dorothy,” Blanche said, looking away. “None of this is funny.”

“It is, just a little bit.” Dorothy eased herself down to sit completely, before straightening her legs and rubbing her aching knees. “You’ve done things with men that would make a hooker blush - before, during, _and_ after marriage, I might add - but kissing me is the one thing that goes too far.”

“I suppose when you put it that way, it does sound kind of silly.”

“Because it is silly!” she said, breaking into a laugh. “You don’t see me flipping out over the news that _I_ kissed _you_ , am I?”

“Did you like it at all?” Blanche asked, glancing over at her. 

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t,” Dorothy said. “I was taller than half the boys at school, too skinny, too boring. If someone pretty was going to be sweet to me, of course it’d feel nice, regardless of their gender.”

“I _felt_ pretty with you,” Blanche said, the corners of her mouth twitching upward. “Not in a mean way, don’t get me wrong. Maybe you weren’t the prettiest, but you had an air about you. You still do. Like nothing bad could happen when I was near you.”

“That feels just a tad backhanded, but I’ll take it.” Dorothy ducked her head to catch Blanche’s gaze. “You gonna be okay?” 

Blanche took a deep breath and shifted, planting her knees on the floor and sitting back on her heels. Dorothy watched her, expectant, until Blanche finally nodded. 

“Good,” Dorothy said, reaching over to pat Blanche’s knee. “Do you want to keep watching the movie?”

She nodded again, but instead of getting up, she threaded her fingers through Dorothy’s. There was barely any time to process it before Blanche leaned in, pressing a soft and tentative kiss to Dorothy’s lips. She froze for a moment, blood rushing to her face, before responding in turn. When they broke apart, a needy little whine escaped Blanche’s mouth. 

“Damn it, Blanche,” Dorothy said, laying herself flat on the floor and covering her face. “I thought we just got this thing settled.”

“Well, I had to know if it was a fluke!” Blanche quickly argued. “I couldn’t go my whole life wondering!”

“So, what did you learn from it?” Dorothy said, combing her fingers back through her hair, half tempted to yank it out. “Did you gain some worldly insight? What the hell do you propose we do now, huh?”

“I don’t think we ought to do anything!” Blanche shook her head and hauled herself to her feet. She regarded Dorothy for a moment, then deftly stepped over her and tossed herself onto the sofa. “Like you said, what’s a kiss between friends? We’ll just watch our silly little movie and pretend this never happened, and the both of us will just have to live with the fact that kissing each other is nice.”

Dorothy rolled over and propped her head up with one arm. “Are you kidding me?”

“Well, if we end up old and grey and alone with no men in sight,” Blanche says, grabbing the remote and restarting the movie. “Then we’ll deal with this mess.”

Dorothy sat up and looked around, craning her neck and shielding her eyes from an imaginary glare. “I don’t know if you noticed it, Blanche, but we’re old. We have grey hair. We’re alone with no men in sight.”

“Fine. Older and greyer,” Blanche said, turning up the volume. “Either watch the movie or don’t, but we aren’t talking about this any more today.”

“Fine, whatever.” Dorothy picked up the bits of popcorn she could reach from her spot on the floor and chucked them on the coffee table, before getting up and sitting right back where she was when the whole thing started. 


	2. Chapter 2

Once upon a time, a sulky southern belle sat alone on a bench overlooking the ocean. She was a thousand miles from home, wearing a  _ technically _ stolen dress, with nothing to do but wallow over her latest beau’s infidelity. What she really needed was a distraction, something to keep her occupied until her sister could retrieve her. When two boys about her own age strutted up to her with grins plastered across their faces, it seemed like just the thing. 

“Hey there, pretty miss,” the taller boy said, while the other leaned against the pier’s railing and nodded at her. “You’re looking kinda lonely.”

“Hi, fellas,” she said, sitting up a little straighter and giving them a thousand-watt smile. “I might be… Why? You two wanna keep me company?”

“If you’ll let us,” the taller one said, settling in beside her. He stretched his arm out across the back of the bench. 

“What a drawl,” the other said, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re a long way from home, aren’t you? Vacationing, maybe?”

“I saw this place on the television not too long ago,” she said, faintly aware that her seatmate’s hand was inching closer and closer to her shoulder. “Thought I might mosey my way up here and see what all the fuss was about. What about you two?”

“We’re born and bred,” the one at the rail said, finally coming over and sitting on her other side. She crossed her legs and smoothed her skirt over her knees. “We might as well live here all summer. You go on any rides yet?”

“Well, I- hey now!” The tall boy had slipped his arm around her shoulders. “You’re a little forward, aren’t you?”

“Aw, don’t get all frosted!” He pulled her in closer. “What else am I supposed to do with a pretty girl?”

“I don’t know what kinda girl you take me for.” She shrugged off his hand and tried to scoot away, only to end up half in the lap of the other boy. With a huff, she shot to her feet and walked over to the rail. “You haven’t even told me your names!” 

“You haven’t told us yours, either,” the taller one said, climbing to his feet and following her over. She half expected him to stand beside her, instead he boxed her in, holding the rail on either side of her. “I think you owe us at least-”

“There you are!” A voice cut through the air, loud and dramatic, like someone projecting for the back row of a theater. They all looked over to find an impressively tall girl, taller than either of the boys, staring them all down. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Dad’s fuming about you running off.”

“What are you, her mother?” the boy from the bench asked, standing up. 

“What’s it matter to you?” the tall girl asked, marching straight past him and up to the one blocking Blanche in. “You wanna give her some air? I need to talk to her.”

He rolled his eyes and took a few steps back. “Knock yourself out.”

The tall girl pulled a face at him, before pulling Blanche aside and lowering her voice. “Are you alright? Do you want me to get rid of them?”

Blanche could only nod, slightly starstruck at the imposing figure only inches away from her.

“You creeps can go now,” the tall girl said dismissively. “Go find someone else to paw at.”

“Why’d you have to go and ruin our fun?” the taller boy said. “Just ‘cause no one would dream of ever trying to feel up a giant.”

“Keep it up and I’ll bust your nose in,” she said, stepping right up to him. “Have you ever been beaten by a girl? Maybe it’d do you some good.”

“Come on, man,” the other one said, walking off. “This is a waste of time.”

The taller one looked them both up and down, clicked his tongue, and followed after his friend. When they were out of sight, Blanche began to laugh. 

“My lord, that was  _ amazing! _ ” she said, clutching at the taller girl’s arm and beaming up at her.

“I’m just glad they didn’t call my bluff,” the taller girl said, letting out a long sigh. “I’ve never thrown a punch in my life.”

“Whether you’re a fighter or not, I’m still glad you showed up!” Blanche said. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me all day!”

“Must’ve been a pretty lousy day.”

“You have no idea,” Blanche said, before quickly adding, “How can I ever thank you?” 

“You don’t-”

“I simply insist!” Blanche said. “I don’t have much money on me, but when my sister comes to get me, I bet she’d buy you a sundae or something! Whatever you want. I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Oh, alright,” the girl said, shaking her head. “I guess that’ll be fine. When’s your sister coming?”

“That’s… kind of a funny thing,” Blanche said, heading back over to the bench. “Have you got a few minutes?”

The girl looked around, as if weighing her options, before shrugging and plopping down beside her. “Sure, knock yourself out.”

Blanche told the story just as it happened. She may have embellished a few things, left out a few parts that painted her in a bad light, but she was as honest as her nature would let her. 

“And that’s how I wound up here, with you saving my skin.”

The girl raised her head from where it had been propped up on her arm. “That’s it?”

“Mhm, the gist of it,” she said, nodding. “I left out some of the steamier parts. We are in public, after all.”

“You know, I would’ve thought you cribbed all that from some trashy dime store novel if it weren’t for your accent.” She reached behind Blanche and plucked something off of her back. “That, and you still have the price tag on you.”

“That’s so embarrassing!” Blanche quickly snatched it from her and stuffed it down the front of her dress. “I’ve been all over the place and no one told me!”

“You’re too much, you know that?” A chuckle bubbled up from deep within the tall girl, and Blanche couldn’t help but laugh with her. “What did you say your name was?”

Blanche paused. “I didn’t.”

“Did you plan to?” she asked. “Or is that part of the mystique?”

“This is a unique opportunity to give myself any name I choose,” Blanche said, grinning. “When else will I get to reinvent myself into whosoever I desire?”

“I can think of a few names I might call you,” she muttered, dropping her head back onto her arm. 

“I’ll ignore that, since we’re friends and all,” Blanche said. “Why don’t you call me Water Lily? That’s what I like to call myself sometimes.”

“I refuse.”

“Aww, I think it suits me,” she said, pouting and giving her best puppy dog eyes. The girl just stared at her but Blanche persisted, even adding in a few little sniffles for good measure. 

“You really want me to call you that?” 

Blanche nodded. 

“I’ll call you that dumb name if you beat me at the shooting gallery.”

Blanche hummed. “What happens if I lose?”

“I don’t have to call you the dumb name,” she said with a shrug. “Easy as that.”

“It’s no fun betting unless the stakes are high.”

The girl tapped at her chin. “How about… You promise to never do anything as silly as running off with a guy you hardly know. Not ever again.” 

“And who’s gonna make me keep that promise, huh?”

“Fair point. You got any money left?”

Blanche rummaged around her purse. “Sixty-two cents.”

“Winner gets naming rights and sixty-two cents.”

“You’re on.”

* * *

Forty years later, the pair found themselves sitting together once again. This time, however, a heavy wall of tension separated them that was only broken when Sophia burst through the front door. 

“Ma, what are you doing home so early?”

“I lost all my money.” 

“Weren’t you going to see a movie?” Dorothy asked, watching as her mother shuffled off towards her room, fiddling with the collar of her coat. 

“Maybe we took a little detour to the horses.”

“Hold it, hold it!” Dorothy immediately stood. “You went into my wallet again, didn’t you?”

“No.”

“How much money did you lose?”

Sophia muttered something beneath her breath. 

“Ma.”

“Sixty-two dollars and my shirt!” she shouted, throwing her arms in the air. “Can I go now, or do you want me to flash you to prove it?”

“Ma!” 

“I’m going to bed,” Sophia huffed, turning and marching back off. “Yell at me in the morning.”

Dorothy let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing her forehead, before she looked to Blanche for some solidarity. Normally Blanche would say something flippant, slicing through Dorothy’s frustration and de-escalating things, but instead she only stared. 

“What?” Dorothy asked. 

“Sixty-two, huh?” she hissed. “You rotten fink! You told her.”

“That’s a coincidence, Blanche! It happens!” Dorothy sucked in a long breath through her nose, then lowered her voice to just above a whisper. “She just got home. How would I tell her?  _ Why _ would I tell her?”

Blanche laughed, a strained gasp of air, and then dropped her head in her hands. “You’re right, of course. I’m sorry.”

“You’re acting like we hid a body,” Dorothy said, pointing at her. “If anyone’s going to end up spilling about this, it’ll be you!”

Blanche said nothing.

“Look, if you want to talk about it, we’ll talk,” Dorothy continued. “If you don’t want to talk, we won’t. But right now, you’re being absolutely insufferable. I’m going to bed.”

With that, Dorothy left, leaving the southern belle to sit alone and sulk once again.


	3. Chapter 3

Rose came home at half past eleven, still humming the last tune she danced to with her date. The lights were on, a low static hiss played from the TV, and Blanche was curled up on the sofa, still fully clothed. She barely stirred as Rose came to kneel beside her.

“Blanche, honey,” she cooed, smoothing her hand down her friend’s arm. “Time to get up.”

Blanche grumbled something under her breath and pressed her face deeper into the pillow.

“You’re going to be awfully stiff if you stay out here,” Rose insisted, giving her arm a gentle shake. “Come on, bedtime.”

“I’m already stiff.” Blanche slowly sat up and pawed at her bleary eyes. “How was your date?”

“Oh, it was lovely! Dinner, drinks, dancing!” Her smile faltered when Blanche stared blankly at her. “Are you grumpy from being woken up or did I say something dumb?”

“You didn’t do anything,” Blanche said, twisting one of her rings. After a minute of silence, she sighed. “Would you mind having a sleepover tonight? I just feel awful.”

“Did you watch a scary movie?” Rose asked, grabbing Blanche’s hands. “Was it the one with that werewolf? Or the one with the ghost? You know I’m no good with ghosts.”

“No, I’m just in a slump I can’t shake,” she said, squeezing Rose’s hands. “I feel like I’m a terrible person.”

“We’ve been over this before,” Rose said, giving her a smile. “You’re not terrible, you’re just horny all the time.”

“That’s not my problem this time!” She paused. “Alright, maybe it is a little bit, but that’s beside the point. I just want a friend. I’m afraid to be alone with my thoughts.”

“It  _ was _ the ghost movie, wasn’t it?” Rose dragged Blanche up to her feet and pulled her into a hug. “I get it, ghost movies always make me feel jumpy afterward. You just keep seeing things creeping in the shadows.”

“Sure, that’s what it is,” Blanche said, dropping her head against her friend’s shoulder. “Can’t get a thing past you.”

“Give me just a few minutes to wash up and then I’ll be in.”

Rose gave her one last friendly squeeze before hurrying off to her room. Blanche watched her go, utterly tired but just a little hopeful. If there was anyone who could cheer a dejected soul, it was Rose, as long as that soul was patient enough not to strangle her. As she trudged off to her room and went through the bare minimum of her nightly routine, Blanche chuckled to herself.  _ A ghost movie _ . 

She was just pulling back the covers when Rose arrived.

“I really do appreciate this,” Blanche said as they both climbed into bed. 

“You know I love sleepovers,” Rose said, settling in and tugging the covers up to her chin. “Staying up late, chatting into the night, sneaking to the kitchen to get snacks way after lights out.”

“At mine we’d always talk about boys and get all dressed up,” Blanche said, turning to smile at her. “Or we’d sleep out on the porch in the summer and watch the fireflies and the stars, talking about the future and telling secrets.”

“Secrets that seemed so big, like the end of the world,” Rose said, giggling to herself. “But it was always something like sneaking a puppy home or who we liked at school.”

“You ever do anything scandalous?” Blanche asked. “Like practicing kissing or trying to sneak in a boy?”

“No!” Rose said quickly. “Gosh, I never would have done something like that.”

“Which one?”

“Sneaking a boy in!” she said. “Why, I wasn’t allowed to date until I was a senior in high school! If my parents found a boy within ten feet of my room, they’d be furious.”

A grin crept to Blanche’s face. “But not the kissing?”

“Well, no,” she said. “They might’ve given us strange looks if they came in and saw us all kissing our hands.”

The grin melted. “You dummy, I meant on each other.”

“Oh.” Rose looked at her funny, tilting her head. “Oh! Oh? No, the thought never even crossed my mind. It’d be weird to kiss someone you didn’t like.”

“You didn’t like your friends?”

“Of course I liked them,” she said. “But I didn’t like-like them. Not like the marrying kind of like.”

“You don’t have to wanna marry someone you kiss,” Blanche insisted. “It’s just fun! You never just kissed someone for fun?”

“I’ve kissed animals,” Rose said after thinking a moment. “Like when they’re just so cute you have to kiss their heads. That’s fun. I suppose I’ve kissed friends hello or goodbye, that can be sort of fun. Does that count?”

Blanche sighed, just about to answer, when a knock sounded at the door. She froze up as Dorothy poked her head in. 

“Blanche, are you awake?” she asked softly. Upon seeing Rose, she opened the door fully. “Am I interrupting something?”

“No, no, we were just talking about sleepovers and kissing,” Rose said brightly. 

Blanche immediately hit her. “It sounds weird when you say it like that!”

“I don’t think I want to know,” Dorothy said, glancing back into the hall. “I think I’ll leave you to it.”

“No, come join us!” Rose said, climbing out of bed and crossing the room in record time. She took Dorothy’s hands and pulled her towards the bed. “The more people at a sleepover, the more fun! Plus, Blanche watched some spooky movie and now she can’t sleep alone.”

“We barely watched half of that movie. Why-” Seemingly confused as to how she wound up sitting in the center of the bed, Dorothy paused and looked back at Rose. “I’d rather sleep in my own bed.”

“You watched the movie too?” Rose slid in beside her. “It must have been really scary if  _ you _ couldn’t even finish it.” 

“I’d rather sleep in my own bed,” Dorothy repeated, her arms folded, but Rose cuddled up to her and smiled. 

“Did you ever have fun at sleepovers as a kid?”

Dorothy rolled her eyes, dropping herself back against the headboard. “No, never.”

“Never? What a shame!” Rose settled back, not even registering Dorothy slowly banging her head against the headboard or Blanche rolling over and tugging the covers over her head. “Maybe you just never did it right? Gathering up all your friends in one big bed, or spreading out sleeping bags on the floor. Popping popcorn or making cookies, telling stories…”

“Laying in a ditch and waiting for death,” Blanche muttered, barely audible as Rose continued to list off the many splendors of sleepovers. Dorothy snorted. Whether she heard it in full or just caught the gloomy tone, Blanche wasn’t sure, but it was enough to make things feel almost normal. She pushed the covers back from her face and peeked over her shoulder, only to find Dorothy looking down at her. 

“God, you look terrible,” she said, making Blanche scowl.

“She was really scared,” Rose offered. “Not everyone is as good with ghost movies as you, Dorothy.”

Blanche tried to retreat back into her blanket cave, but Dorothy unceremoniously yanked them off her. 

“Up,” she ordered, poking Blanche square in the spine. “We’re going to talk about the movie.”

Blanche squirmed away from her touch and tumbled straight to the floor. Dorothy stepped over her and waited, arms akimbo, unphased by Blanche’s struggle to get to her feet with any sort of dignity. At her full height, even rising on her tiptoes, Blanche still had to look up at Dorothy like a defiant child. “I can handle myself.”

“Can you?” Dorothy laid her hand on Blanche’s shoulder, featherlight, guiding her on casters toward the door. “Stay here, will you Rose?”

“Sure, but why can’t you just talk here?”

“If I talk about scary things around you, you’re going to get scared,” Dorothy said sagely. “Then I’ll have to talk to you about it. Do you want to be scared too?”

“No, of course not!” 

“Good, then you’ll wait here,” she said, smiling back at her. “And we’ll come back and a nice sleepover, okay?”

“Okay!” Rose said, radiating the cheerfully hopeful energy of a child waiting for Santa Claus. Blanche, however, marched off like a child who had just learned the truth. 

“You pick the meeting place,” she said, trailing after Blanche. “Living room, kitchen, or lanai?”

Blanche swerved off towards the lanai, Dorothy followed. The night air was still and cool, but not entirely uncomfortable. Perched on the edge of a lounge chair, Blanche hugged herself out of insecurity instead of chill. Dorothy took a seat beside her, keeping a few inches of space between them. 

“Do you want to go first, or should I?”

“I keep mucking everything up when I talk,” Blanche said, rubbing her arms. “You oughta go first.”

“Do you want the good stuff first or the bad stuff?”

“Bad.”

“Water Lily is a dumb name that didn’t suit you then and it doesn’t suit you now.”

“Excuse me?” Blanche said, shooting her a look. 

“Something beautiful and fragrant growing up through the mud?” Dorothy leaned back on her arms and looked up at the sky. “Don’t they symbolize purity, innocence, and chastity? Might as well call me Baby’s Breath, since I’m so small and delicate.”

“Oh, shove it,” Blanche said, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. “What do you know about flowers anyway. Here I thought we’d be having a heart to heart, and you’re just sitting here, picking on me.”

“You asked for the bad.”

“Fine, then what’s the good?” she asked, propping her chin on her hands. 

“I don’t regret it,” Dorothy said plainly, as if she were describing the weather. “I stand by what I said; it was nice. Maybe the implications are a little scary if I dwell on them too long, but there are a lot worse things in life than knowing you’re wanted.”

“Why are you so okay with this?” Blanche asked desperately. “It’s just so weird! It’s not right, me and you. You’re my best friend, for god’s sake.”

"And you're mine," she said simply. "But you said it yourself - the first time, you were tired and frightened and lonely after that con artist took you for a ride. This time it was late and you were embarrassed and nervous. Some people clam up when emotions run high, some people start fights, you just happen to latch your mouth onto whomever offers you a scrap of affection.” 

Blanche looked her over. “I suppose you’re not entirely wrong.”

“And it seems natural that two lonely people who love each other, platonically or otherwise, might end up trying to tie up loose ends by seeking the only form of connection they know how.”

“So what you’re saying is that I get upset and throw myself at people,” Blanche said. “And you, my very best friend, just happened to get caught in the crossfire. Twice. And it was only so nice because we’re both pathetic and lonely old fools.”

“I didn’t say pathetic,” Dorothy began, but Blanche sprung to her feet.

“Why, I don’t know why we made such a big deal about this!”

“We?” Dorothy asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Let’s put this behind us,” she said, reaching for Dorothy’s hands and hauling her to her feet. “The past is the past, right? I bet Rose is worrying herself silly over us. Probably thinks some boogeyman ate us up, we’ve been gone so long.”

Dorothy let out a long, beleaguered sigh and squeezed her friend’s hands. The status quo was tentatively back, Dorothy thought as Blanche dragged her back inside. Of course, the thought lasted less than a minute as they ran smack dab into a wide-eyed Rose.


	4. Chapter 4

Blanche paled, digging her nails into Dorothy’s hand as she stared Rose down. “What are you doing?”

“Well…” Rose began, eyes darting down to her friends’ joined hands. Dorothy managed to wrench free of Blanche’s grasp just as Rose looked back up. “I was worried about you two. I started thinking that maybe something happened.”

“You didn’t see anything,” Blanche warned, pointing a finger at her. “You didn’t hear-”

“Oh, knock it off,” Dorothy said, smacking Blanche’s hand out of the air. “Rose, how much of that did you hear?”

“More than you wanted me to hear, I guess,” Rose said. “You… didn’t really watch the ghost movie, huh? You two just wanted a minute alone.”

“It isn’t what it looks like,” Blanche said quickly, but Rose waved her off.

“You don’t have to pretend with me.” Rose offered them both a soft smile. “You’re my best friends! Of course, I’m a little sad you didn’t tell me. I know I can be a little naive at times, but after Jean and Clayton and the way the world has been changing, I’d like to think I’m pretty progressive… Well, to think I’d have never known about your relationship if I didn’t hear you breaking up.”

“Breaking… up?” Blanche could only blink. “Rose, honey, it  _ really _ isn’t what you think it is. Tell her, Dorothy.”

“No, you’re doing a fantastic job,” she said, brushing past them and heading for the kitchen. “I’m guessing this will take a while, though. Snack?”

Dorothy disappeared through the kitchen door. Rose waited for it to fully close before dropping her voice and taking Blanche’s hands. “No wonder you looked so shaken up - it must have been awful to have Dorothy break up with you.”

“Dorothy, break up with me?” Blanche repeated, feeling like her brain was melting. 

“I’m glad you two had a chance to clear the air, though,” she said, nodding. “I love you both so much. I’d hate to have to pick a side if it wasn’t such an amicable end.” 

“It wasn’t an amicable end!” Blanche said, shaking off Rose’s grip and storming to the other side of the room. She wished she had a robe, something to wrap around herself protectively, something that would keep her hands occupied instead of whipping them around. “There wasn’t an end because there wasn’t a relationship! You can’t end what never started! Since when does a kiss automatically equal a relationship, huh? I’ve kissed more people than I can count and it doesn’t mean that I love all of them.”

“I… I don’t really understand what you mean,” Rose said as Dorothy reemerged from the kitchen with a bag of store-bought cookies. She tossed them towards Blanche, who caught them instinctively and stared at them with confusion. 

“What am I supposed to do with these?” 

“You could eat a few, for a start,” Dorothy said. “It might make you stop shouting. Do you realize how late it is? You’re gonna end up waking Ma if you keep on like that, probably half the neighborhood too.”

Blanche wilted and sunk onto the couch, tearing open the bag and wordlessly popping one into her mouth. 

“I still don’t know what’s going on,” Rose said, turning her attention to Dorothy. “Are you a couple? Not a couple? I mean, maybe I misheard, but it sounded an awful lot like you two were talking about Blanche trying to kiss you, and with the way she’s acting…”

“You know how she gets,” Dorothy said, folding her arms over her chest. “Friday night, no date. Nothing happening on the weekend either. Her emotions build up like, oh what did she say it was? Like a car up on blocks, just revving and revving with nowhere to go.”

“I’m right here, you know,” Blanche said, but the other two ignored her.

“She tried to kiss me one New Years Eve, you know?” Rose said. “She didn’t have a date and when midnight struck, I had to turn her down.”

“It’s just in her nature,” Dorothy said knowingly. “Nothing happened between us. She just got herself all worked up and I happened to be there for her. Plus, if we were seeing each other, don’t you think you would’ve noticed sooner? She certainly isn’t one to be discreet.”

“You’re right, I don’t know what I was thinking,” Rose said, giggling. “You and her, it’d be a mess! Blanche would be bored out of her mind and you’d have to worry about her wandering eye. Or… maybe you’d balance each other out, who knows? I’ve never really given it much thought.”

“You can ponder that thought in your own bed tonight,” Dorothy said, patting Rose’s arm. “I think the sleepover is cancelled. I’ll make sure she doesn’t stay on the couch.”

“Okay!” Rose offered Blanche a smile before she left. “Try to get some sleep, okay? You’ll have a date lined up before you know it, and then you’ll feel like yourself again.”

“Mhm, I’m sure,” Blanche said, stuffing another cookie in her mouth and trying not to glare. “G’night, Rose. Thanks for the talk.”

“You tried to kiss Rose?” Dorothy asked once the door to Rose’s room had closed. 

“I  _ hate _ when people talk like I’m not here,” Blanche said. “You make me sound like some kind of sex maniac.”

“You tried to kiss  _ Rose _ ?” 

The corners of Blanche’s lips twitched upward. “Are you jealous?”

“Me, jealous?” Dorothy asked, looking her up and down. “Of what? Rose rejecting you for a New Year’s kiss?”

“You  _ are _ ,” she said, a smile spreading across her face. She shifted to tuck her legs beneath her, leaned over the arm of the couch towards Dorothy. “My god, you’re jealous!”

Dorothy set her hands on her hips and glared down at her, but it wasn’t enough to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. 

“Dare I say it, but that is a rather becoming expression on you, Ms. Zbornak,” Blanche teased, tongue poking out between her teeth as she beamed at her. “Why, you’re downright cute when you’re flustered.”

“Stop it, Blanche,” Dorothy said, covering her mouth with one hand and looking away. “This is absolutely ridiculous.”

“You remember when we were up in that Ferris Wheel,” Blanche said. “And I was oh-so-scared, cause I’d never been on something so high up? You had that same silly look on your face.”

“I hate heights and you kept rocking the car,” she muttered. “Everytime you looked over the side, I thought you’d end up falling out.”

“I didn’t know that at the time,” she said. “I suppose I don’t notice much of anything unless it directly involves me… But you noticed how scared I was and you held my hand and you looked just like you do right now.”

“I  _ really _ just wanted you to sit still and stop rocking the damn car,” Dorothy said, letting out a sigh. Blanche reached out a hand, waggling her fingers, and Dorothy stepped forward to take it. “You’ve always squirmed too much.”

“I can’t help it,” Blanche said, laughing and swinging their joined hands to and fro. “I’m a creature of movement. Not all of us can be so stiff and serious all the time. Even back then, I kissed you and you just sat there stiff as a board.”

“What do you want from me?” Dorothy said abruptly. Blanche could only stare, her breath catching in her throat. “Is this just some fun? Do you want a relationship? You have to let me know.”

“I… I don’t know,” she said, glancing away. “I haven’t really thought of it much. I suppose I wouldn’t mind being with you, but it’d be kinda weird, wouldn’t it? And I wouldn’t wanna jeopardize our friendship over some passing fling. What do you want?”

“I want to be happy,” Dorothy said softly. “I want someone who loves me for me. I want them to be happy too, Blanche, and I just don’t think you could be happy with me.”

“Oh, I think I could be,” she said, squeezing her hand. “I’m happy with you right this second. It wouldn’t be so different from how we already are, just with a few… benefits added in.”

“And the glances from the neighbors, explaining ourselves to Ma and Rose,” she said. “Changing the whole dynamic around which we interact, not to mention  _ you _ settling down. What are you gonna do with your time if you’re not chasing men?”

“I don’t know, maybe Sophia can teach me how to knit,” Blanche teased, but Dorothy didn’t smile. “I was faithful to George until the day he died. I don’t run around on the people I love.”

Dorothy stayed silent. 

“Why don’t we let it simmer a little while?” Blanche asked, starting to swing their hands again. “We don’t have to make a decision so soon. Well, we could just be each other’s safety net. You know, say neither of us are married by a certain date, we start going together.”

“I could live with that,” Dorothy said after a moment’s thought. “It makes the whole thing seem less intimidating, doesn’t it?”

“Right? Aren’t I brilliant?” Blanche asked. “Solved all our problems in one fell swoop. Only took a full night of breakdowns and making an ass of myself.”

“Problems that were your fault to begin with,” Dorothy added. 

“Can’t you just be nice to me?” Blanche said, laughing. “I think I’ve done enough wallowing for one day. Can you imagine what all this stress is gonna do to my skin in the morning?”

“Judging by how you look right now?” Dorothy said. “Pretty bad. But you’ll bounce back.”

“Shush, you,” Blanche said, letting go of Dorothy to close up the bag of cookies and to straighten her pajamas as she stood. “Are we okay?”

Dorothy offered her a smile and held open her arms. Blanche melted into them without hesitation, snaking her arms around Dorothy’s waist and nestling in against her shoulder. “We’re okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are greatly appreciated!


End file.
